


Dragon

by rockhoochie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Canon-Typical Violence, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Feels, Fluff, Mildly Dubious Consent, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Sad and Sweet, Smut, Soulless Sam Winchester, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-03
Updated: 2018-03-03
Packaged: 2019-03-26 06:56:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13852434
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rockhoochie/pseuds/rockhoochie
Summary: When Emma learns that Sam Winchester has somehow escaped from Hell, she can hardly wait to feel his arms around her again. But his curious, callous behavior and an act of betrayal leave Emma with no other choice than to turn her back on her longtime friend and lover.  For years, she buries her feelings for him, bearing the anger and heartache Sam caused her – until the day chance offers them the opportunity to reconcile. Together once again, they uncover the everlasting passion and profound love between them that could never be destroyed .





	Dragon

**Author's Note:**

> The dub-con is very slight. Soulless!Sam only appears in Act One - sweet, regular Sam returns in Act 2.
> 
> Written for a Tumblr prompt challenge. Title inspired by the quoted song "Dragon" by Tori Amos. If you prefer Reader Insert, see my [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/rockhoochie)! 
> 
> I always love to hear from you! Thank you so much for reading!

_“You touched my hand, I felt a force_

_You called it dark but now I’m not so sure_

_Just stay awhile, stay awhile, stay awhile_

_Why don’t you stay awhile, stay awhile, stay awhile_

_‘Cause your wild card, boy, needs playing_

_Don’t believe the lie, your dragon needs slaying_

_Won’t you lay here with me_

_And I will bring kisses for the beast_

_Lay here with me, here with me” - **[‘Dragon’](https://t.umblr.com/redirect?z=https%3A%2F%2Fwww.youtube.com%2Fplaylist%3Flist%3DPLd_lqPe18gHUeE29Xr4myJd5hn9WnQPpo&t=YWU4MDE0YjM2MGE0NWYwZmNjMThjNzIyOWY4MTNkYzAxY2FlY2RmOCxnZnYwTkhMRg%3D%3D&b=t%3AMep_0wYSFbEIjnwa0K5ItQ&p=https%3A%2F%2Frockhoochie.tumblr.com%2Fpost%2F171437971654%2Fdragon&m=1) by Tori Amos**_

**_***_ **

**_Delta Township, Michigan - October 2010_ **

I hadn’t even managed a ‘hello’ before Sam grabbed my arm and pulled me into the motel room. He slammed the door shut and pinned me against it immediately, the towel that had been wrapped around his waist falling to the floor.

“Want you so fucking bad,” he growled, clutching the backs of my thighs, all but commanding that I jump into his arms and wrap my legs around his waist.

He kissed me hard, his tongue pushing into my mouth without warning or invitation, one strong arm supporting my weight, his free hand tangling in my hair. I melted into him while he walked us toward the bed, his lips never leaving mine as he practically devoured me.

I sucked in a badly needed breath once he tossed me down on the mattress, my legs dangling over the side, his fingers loosening the laces of my boots.

“Well hello to you too, Winchester,” I giggled as he pulled them off. “Happy to see me?”

“Take that shirt off. Now.”

I unbuttoned my blue and white plaid cotton shirt as he unfastened and tugged the denim off my legs right along with my underwear. I’d hardly had time to sit up and unhook my bra before he pushed me back down and covered my body and mouth with his.

In all the years I’d known him, I’d never seen him like this. Sure, it had been awhile - nearly a year - since we’d seen one another…but Sam wasn’t usually so rough. The nights we spent together, although few and far between, had always been laid-back; filled with conversation, dinner at or from the closest restaurant, soft touches and languid kisses preceding the closest thing to lovemaking two hunters could experience.

I’d missed this, missed  _him_ so much…I had been aching for him since he’d finally texted me two days earlier. By the time I had pulled into the motel parking lot, my panties were already damp from the anticipation of seeing, touching, and kissing him again.

When he released our kiss, I was about to ask him to slow down, to let me have a chance to run my hands and tongue over his perfectly toned body. But my request went unuttered, stolen by the groan that escaped my throat as Sam sunk two fingers deep into my wet heat.

“God, I’ve missed this pussy,” he muttered, his mouth placing hot, ravenous kisses down my sternum to my stomach, all the while working me with his thick fingers. I gasped when he crooked them just right, hitting that sweet spot inside me, writhing in ecstasy from his touch and his hot breath against my sex.

He withdrew his fingers with a grunt, dropping to his knees, grabbing my legs and draping them over his shoulders. A fiery shiver buzzed throughout my body when I felt his heavy tongue lick a long, firm stripe from my entrance to my clit. My back arched as he lapped at me, my hands dropping to his head to lace through his long hair.

“Still the sweetest little cunt I’ve ever tasted, Emma,” he said, just before wrapping his lips around my clit and sucking.

“Sam, fuck…” I breathed, already feeling the tension gathering in my abdomen.

“Still like that, huh? Been too long since I’ve gotten to play with you…”

I couldn’t offer any other reply but a whimper as he slipped his fingers back in, this time adding a third. My own clipped sighs mixed with the squelch of his fingers in my wetness and the sound of his moans as he rolled his tongue over my clit. Despite all the time that had passed he remembered just how to touch me, when and where to put the pressure, and exactly how to make me come undone.

“Oh my god…gonna come…” I whined.

He ceased all movements, pulling the girth of his fingers and warmth of his mouth out and away from me.

“Nuh uh,” he objected, rising from the floor. “Not yet you’re not.”

I let out a wanton wail as he slid his huge, beautiful cock inside me with one fluid thrust.

“You’re gonna come while I’m fucking you,” he husked. “Wanna feel this pussy squeeze and drip around me.” He bucked at a steady, unyielding pace, circling my swollen clit with the pad of his thumb.

Somewhere, in the furthest depths of my mind, I knew something was off.  But reason and rationale were pushed further and further away with every thrust of his cock and circle of his thumb, eroded by the waves of sheer pleasure that swelled through me.

“Fuck, Sam….” I moaned loudly, the heat in me surging, ready to combust at any moment.

“That’s right, Emma. Scream for me when I make you come…scream so loud the whole fucking state knows who’s giving it to you…”

I shattered around him, my walls gripping his cock hard and tight as I desperately howled the single syllable of name.

He fucked me through my climax, low grunts ripping from his chest with every flex of my pussy around him. He pulled out much too quickly, stroking himself as he leered down at me. His eyes were full of dark fire, smoldering with bestial intensity.

“Turn over. Up on your hands and knees,” he commanded.

I obeyed instinctively, still trembling with the sweet aftershocks of my orgasm, too busy catching my breath to acknowledge the voice in my head that crept forward and whispered caution.

The bed sunk as he kneeled behind me. His large, rough hand ran over one cheek of my ass, up my spine to the nape of my neck. I felt him breach my soaked entrance again, slamming in with resolve, the momentum of his thrusts building quickly. He gathered my hair in one fist, tugging so I was forced to look up into the mirror that hung next to the bed. I stared at our reflection, at Sam sneering through gritted teeth as he pounded into me, at his flushed skin that covered his laboring muscles, at his eyes that met mine in the mirror.

“Look at that,” he smirked. “Look at what a good little whore you are for me…”

My head was reeling, overloaded with euphoria and confusion, with exhilaration and concern. I watched as the sweat rolling down his temples dripped onto my back, watched my body jolt forward as he fucked me harder, watched as his face contorted with pleasure. He freed his hands from my hair, giving my ass one hard smack before digging both sets of fingers deep into the flesh of my hips.

“So fucking tight…taking my cock so good…Fuck, Emma…fuck!!”

He spilled into me, grunting hard and low as I stilled and his movements stuttered. I collapsed face down on the bed when he pulled out, his come dripping out of me and turning cold against the sheets. With a delirious smile on my face, I turned over on my back - only to see him making his way to the bathroom and shutting the door without so much as a backward glance.

Then that whisper, that small voice I had muted and sent to the back of my mind had shoved itself to the forefront, screaming what I didn’t want to acknowledge. This wasn’t Sam Winchester. Or if it was, something was extremely wrong.

Uneasiness washed over me. I found my shirt and panties lying on the floor and quickly gathered them, anxious to cover myself. For the first time ever, self-consciousness flushed through me at the thought of him seeing me naked. Before I could get too submerged in my thoughts, Sam came out of the bathroom.

“Why’re you dressed?” he asked.

“I… I’m just a little cold.”

I rose to my feet, needing to escape to the bathroom myself for practical reasons, as well as for a chance to gather my thoughts. I walked past him quickly, shutting and locking the door behind me.

Sitting on the toilet, I buried my face in my hands. What was going on with him? The roughness, the name-calling, the absence of tenderness…it was all so unlike him. The color of his hazel eyes had dulled, his emotions seemed twisted or gone. He even tasted different, smelled different - a subtle note of something I couldn’t place missing from his essence.

Sam had always opened up to me. Sometimes I think I knew more about him than his brother did. We’d known each other for years, keeping a close friendship and casual yet passionate sexual relationship between us. He’d confided in me for years about so many things - the visions he used to have, his anger and sadness when Dean was rotting in Hell for saving Sam’s life. I’d known about the demon pulling, the demon blood and Ruby - her betrayal and the shit storm that followed.

Was he drinking demon blood again? Shit, was that even really  _him_? I shuddered at the possibility that I had just been fucked by a Shapeshifter…but no, that wasn’t it. It was Sam, flesh and blood - he knew my body too well. Since the last time I saw him, I knew the man had been to Hell and back, literally. He hadn’t shared what had happened to him downstairs, leaving me to assume that it was something that he wanted to talk about in person rather than over a phone call or series of texts. Or it was something that he didn’t want to discuss at all.

Actual Hell. I nearly laughed at myself, convinced I was overreacting to his behavior. Who wouldn’t be changed or even damaged after something like that? And for that matter, who couldn’t use a good hard fuck with a familiar lover after enduring god knows what? Assuring myself that it had all been a preliminary release of his pent-up frustrations, I was sure that our normal routine would come back into place as the evening wore on.

I got up, splashed some cold water on my face, and checked my appearance in the bathroom mirror. My hair was properly disheveled, lips red and kiss-swollen, the marks on my hips in the shape of Sam’s fingers already turning a pale shade of purple. “Just talk to him,” I muttered to myself, drying my face with the scratchy hand towel. “He’s always trusted you, he cares about you, he’ll tell you what’s going on.”

Composing myself and taking a deep breath, I let myself out into the room. The main door was wide open, letting in a cold, autumn night breeze that chilled my half-naked body. And Sam was nowhere to be seen.

Reaching for my jeans that lay crumpled on the floor, I pulled them on as I walked to the door. I took a look outside - maybe he was getting ice or making a call. It was late, eerily quiet and pitch dark. I looked around the small parking lot, to the left and right of the room, only to find nothing but a few parked cars and the dim, flickering light of an ancient vending machine.

I slammed the door shut, my pep-talk positivity dissolving into anger as I slipped on my socks and laced up my boots.

“What the hell is happening?” I cursed into the empty room. Did he seriously just pull a fuck-and-run on me? I picked up my gear bag that I had carelessly tossed to the floor and set it on the table. While I searched inside of it for my phone, the slight wisp of a shadow floated along my peripheral. Stiffening, I softly and calmly rummaged through my bag, pulling out the small machete I had wrapped in a t-shirt. I heard the faintest sound of breathing, the softest patter of footsteps behind me as I slowly uncovered the knife.

“Sam?” I called softly, “Is that you?”

I turned around cautiously, only to see a young, pale blonde girl my height staring back at me. Bearing her fangs with a hiss, she lunged forward.

I ducked and fell to my side, hitting the floor as the vampire crashed into the table. She turned and charged at me, only giving me enough time to bend my knees in and slam both of my feet into her stomach. She fell back as I scrambled to stand, machete still in my grip. I didn’t waste a second storming toward her, putting all of my weight into stomping on her chest with one heel. She let out an anguished cry, her arms flailing and body writhing under me. She tried to grab at my legs, but she was slow and weak for a vamp - she must have been newly turned, starving, or both. I kicked at her side while she shrieked and twisted and hissed until she rolled over, slamming my foot down hard between her shoulder blades.

“Not tonight, Vampirella,” I snarled, gripping my machete with both hands. I straddled her back, driving the blade downward into her neck. Blood sprayed and splattered on my face as I hacked and sawed, finally managing to crack through her spinal cord and sever her head.

I stood up, observing her decapitated body twitch, her blood soaking into the worn, dingy carpet. The door handle rattled - I swiveled around, knife raised and braced myself for another attack.

“Emma, you stupid bitch!” Sam shouted as he burst through the door, fully clothed and carrying a length of rope in one hand. “I needed her alive!”

Trembling, I looked up at him. The man who was one of my best friends, who was kind and sweet and selfless wasn’t there. In his place stood Sam’s antithesis, a shell of human being who was callous and devoid of empathy, with a heart whose only function was to pump blood through his stone-cold veins.

“Okay, Sam… what the fuck is going on? What do you mean you needed her alive? She attacked me, she was a damn vampire!”

He looked at me indignantly. “I know that.”

“You were using me as bait?!”

“Well, yeah,” he declared, as though it was the most normal thing in the world.

Tears stung my eyes as my heart sank heavy in my chest. I stared at my crimson- stained hands, noticing the stickiness and metallic stench.

“Why?” I croaked.

“I needed to lure her in here, so I could capture her. Some other hunters and I, we think we found a cure for people who get bit.”

The blood flow from the body had slowed, darkening and gathering in a viscous pool. My throat was aching from the lump that had formed in it, a lump that - if I were to let it go - would send tears streaming down my face.

Sam let the rope fall to the floor and walked toward me.

“I wasn’t going to let her kill you, just needed her to bite you. Then we -”

I took a step back, still gripping my knife and dared myself to look him in the eye.

“And you needed to fuck me first? Just in case it didn’t all work out and it was the last time?”

Sam simply shrugged and laughed. “I just needed to get laid. Figured I could kill two birds with one stone.”

“Sam… are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m great.” He toed at the forehead of the severed head. “Pissed off that you killed this vamp though.”

“No, I mean…” I sighed. I didn’t know how to ask the things I needed to ask, afraid that if I said the wrong thing that he would react horribly. “What happened to you? In Hell?”

“I don’t remember any of it,” he said, taking a seat on the bed. “It’s all a blank.”

“Have you checked this room for hex bags?”

“Of course I have.”

“Where’s Dean?”

“Done hunting, living in the suburbs with his girlfriend and her kid.”

“Are you drinking demon blood again?”

“No! Jesus, Emma, what’s with all the questions?”

“You’re not yourself, Sam! Setting a vamp on me and…and the sex, the way you…Please, just tell me what’s going on!”

“Hey, I’m fine, okay? What’s your problem?” He stood up, coming towards me again. I cringed as he cupped my face in his hands and stroked my cheek. “Guess I didn’t fuck you hard enough.” His teeth gleamed against a positively wicked grin as he ran a hand down my arm. “You always were such a slut for my cock…Need me to wring a couple more orgasms out of you? Gotta say, you look even sexier after a fresh kill…”

Fear, self-preservation, and unadulterated anger surged through me as I shoved him away.

“Fuck you, Sam,” I spat.

He chuckled as I grabbed my bag, tucked my blood covered machete inside of it and made a beeline for the door. I’d figure out how and where to clean up later - right now I needed to get away from him. With my hand on the doorknob, I turned to give him one last look.

“Until you want to tell me what’s going on, or until you figure it out, lose my number.”

He regarded me with something resembling amusement and condescension. That was the last look I would remember on Sam Winchester’s face, a look that broke the part of my heart that held space for only him, a look that would haunt me for years.

**_***_ **

**_Tucumcari, New Mexico - January 2014_ **

_It’s a frigid winter night, frost decorates the windows in intricate patterns of flowery feathers and paisley pine needles. But I’m warm, sitting on the couch in front of a blazing fire, cocooned in the handmade wool blanket that surrounds me. A copy of ‘Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince’ rests on my swollen belly as I sip the tea my husband made me - it’s warm and sweet, just like him.  Our wedding photo stands in the center of the mantle, surrounded by other pictures of us and our families, empty frames waiting to be filled with pictures of our daughter._

_I smile as I hear his footsteps, feel his hands on my shoulders, his breath against my neck as he leans down to kiss me there. The baby kicks, as though she acknowledges the loving presence of her father. Everything is so perfect, bursting with love and comfort and everything is the way it should be, no blood, no danger, no terror. I try to turn around and meet his eyes, to return the kiss on his lips, but suddenly I’m shaking…something is shaking me so hard and my contentment is erased by fear and someone is calling my name from outside…_

“Emma, Emma wake up…”

I woke with a start, the back of my head throbbing. The dank, musty smell of the abandoned warehouse filled my nostrils, along with the smell of blood and something terribly rancid. Wanting to press my hand against the bump on my head, I tried to move my arms; They were tied to the chair I was sitting on.

“It’s okay, I’ve got it – just hold still,” a man’s voice said.

Panic rushed through me as I came to, remembering what happened. The damn Djinn I’d been hunting got me. I had been stuck in dreamland until whoever was cutting my restraints had intervened. Who could have possibly known I was here?

The ropes dropped. I immediately stood up and kicked the chair back, drawing a shout and a grunt from whoever was behind me.  I quickly grasped my weapon that had fallen to the floor; The silver blade was still fresh with lamb’s blood – I couldn’t have been out long.

The room was dark and my vision still blurred. “Who the fuck is there?”

“Emma, it’s okay…it’s me.”

Sam Winchester stepped into the single ray of light that shone through a cracked window in the warehouse.

“Sam? Is it really you?”

“It’s me,” he assured, stepping closer.

There was no mistaking it was him, I’d know that face anywhere. A smile crept across my face – it had been so long, years since I’d seen him. I began to step towards him but hesitated.

“Prove it.” I gestured toward my gear bag. “Salt, splash and slash”.

Sam rummaged through it until he found what he needed, sprinkling himself with the salt and splashing himself with the holy water. Then he gingerly took the blade from my hand, wiping the lamb’s blood off with the bottom of his flannel. Reaching out his forearm, he cut himself, scarlet blood rising and beading against his skin.

It was really him. Old habit drove me toward him, to wrap my arms around his waist and bury my head in his chest.

“Thank god, thank god it’s you. Thank god you found me. How did you know?”

“I didn’t. All I knew was there was a Djinn out here attacking people. I tracked it here and…are you okay?”

I stepped away from him, wavering and dizzy, wiping tears away, praying he didn’t notice them. “I’m fine. Fucking pissed – can’t believe that son of a bitch got me.”

“Hey, it happens. I’m just glad I got here in time. It’s…it’s good to see you, Emma.”

Those were the last words I heard before blackness clouded my vision and my body gave out.

***

When I woke again, thin sheets and a chintzy comforter covered me. I was on a bed – in a motel room if the pungent scent of bleach was any indication. My head still hurt a bit, where that bastard Djinn had clocked me. Rope burns circled my wrists, and a cut on the corner of my lip stung when I ran my tongue over it.

Propping myself up, I took stock of my surroundings. I found Sam lying on a small couch, his eyes closed, long denim clad legs and bare feet dangling over the edge. I stared at him for a while, watching him sleep. His arms were crossed loosely against the plain white t-shirt that covered his upper body, his head twitching now and then from whatever nightmare was plaguing his dreams. His hair was still the same, just a little longer and fuller. There were a few more lines etched into his face, a bit more scruff covering his sharp cheekbones and chin than he used to keep, but damn if hadn’t gotten more beautiful with the past few years under his belt. My heart melted a bit as I looked at him – I would’ve fit perfectly on that couch. But that was Sam, caring and courteous, more concerned about others’ comfort than his own.

When he was truly himself, anyway.

The happy flutter in my chest quickly decayed into an ache that dove down to my gut as I remembered that last time I saw him. It had been years since we talked or seen one another. And I’d spent those years trying to forget him, to forget the loving friendship we shared, to forget everything that had happened on that awful night four years ago.

Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I pulled back the covers and sat up slowly. Sam had stripped me, leaving me in my bra and underwear and covering me with a giant grey cotton t-shirt that was unmistakably his. My clothes had been torn up, soaked with stagnant water and bloodied, from what I could remember. Glancing at the nightstand beside me, a clean flannel shirt, jeans and socks from my bag had been placed there, neatly folded. Likely out of consideration or modesty, he hadn’t rummaged through my bag enough to add a bra or pair of panties to the pile.

Behind the stack of clothes were two plastic bottles of water and a bottle of ibuprofen. I knew then, without a doubt, that the real, true and whole Sam Winchester had been my savior, bringing me to safety and taking care of my unconscious body. It should have made me happy. I should have been filled with relief, with elation. Instead, my blood came to a rolling boil.

I clutched one of the waters, unscrewing the cap and gulping it down. Taking in too much at once, I nearly choked, coughing hard to expel the water from my lungs.

Sam was by my side in seconds.

“Hey, you okay?”

I nodded, gasping and coughing as he patted my back.

“Went down wrong,” I wheezed. Once I was done coughing, Sam opened the bottle of pills, taking two out and handing them to me.

“Here, take these.”

I took them from his large hand and swallowed them, carefully this time. Steadying my palms on the mattress, I pushed myself upwards.

“Whoa, easy…” Sam instructed.

“I can walk, Sam,” I snapped, snatching my clothes off the nightstand. “I need a shower.”

“Alright,” he replied softly, never taking his eyes off me. “Just…yell if you need anything, okay?”

I responded with a slam of the bathroom door.

The heat of the water was ice cold compared to my temper. I took my frustration out on myself, scrubbing my skin and scalp hard as fury ran through me. He owed me an explanation for the way he’d treated me, for the way he vanished from my life only to come sailing back in, rescuing and taking care of me as though he cared again. If he was gone when I got out, I swore to every god old and new that I would go hunt him down like the monster that he was.

After I dried and dressed, I left the bathroom and was met with the smell of coffee. Sam was towering over the mini motel coffee machine, stirring a cup with a wooden stick.

He met me with a tentative smile.

“Here,” he said, offering me a steaming styrofoam cup, “four sugars, two creams, right?”

I eyed a bottle sitting on the table next to the couch. Brushing past him, I opened the whiskey and took a long swallow.

“Emma, it’s 9:30 in the morning…”

“So fucking what?” I snarled. “After what happened, I deserve it.” I took another drink, letting the blissful flush of alcohol dull my nerves.

Sighing, Sam set down the coffee he made for me and sat on the foot of the bed.

“I can explain everything -”

“Good, and you’d better start. You’re lucky I’m not beating your ass right now.” I sat down on the couch, legs and arms crossed tight, still clutching the almost empty bottle of whiskey in my hand.

Sam’s elbows rested on his knees, his head tilted downward, large fingers massaging  his temples.

“Emma, the last time I saw you…when I set that vampire on you and, and… did the other things I did…I wasn’t exactly…me.”

“No shit.”

His eyes met mine, sad and full of regret and shame.

“I didn’t have my soul.”

I let out the breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.

“What? What happened to it?”

“It was still in Lucifer’s cage. I got it back though, after a couple months. Dean made a deal with Death and he…put it back in.”

“So,” I said, staring at a mystery stain on the carpet, “Do you remember what happened in Hell now?”

A visible shudder rocked him. “Yes. And I remember everything else. Every horrible thing I did…what I did and said to you… Emma, I’m so sorry.”

I looked up at him, at the single tear rolling down his cheek. My own eyes began to burn and well up as I finally saw the sweet man I’d met all those years ago at Harvelle’s, the man who became my friend and lover, the man who’d kept fighting despite having been broken and put back together over and over again.

I distracted myself with another drink, determined not to let the tears spill.

“I called you, you know, after that night,” I muttered. “Waited a few months, but I called and called. Tried every damn number I had for you. Thought you were dead for a while, until I heard about how Bobby died. Sam, I spent  _months_  trying to understand what had happened, if there was some way I could have helped you. Then I actually blamed myself, wondering if I had done something wrong, done something to make you do what you did. And you never tried to contact me. Not once. Did you not even stop to think that maybe, just maybe you owed me an explanation? An apology?”

I wasn’t sure when I had gotten up from the couch, when I had started pacing, when my mutters had turned into shouting. Sam was as still as a statue, lips pursed and eyes blinking rapidly.

“I couldn’t Emma,” he said, his voice soft and wavering. “I figured - hoped - you’d think I was dead and you could just get on with your life.”

“ _Are you fucking kidding me?!_ ” I screamed, smashing the whiskey bottle on the floor. “Everything we’ve been through, everything I’ve done for you and all of a sudden it’s better if I think you’re dead? When you were scared about your powers and what you could do, who reminded you that you weren’t a freak? Who was there for you when you were playing fuck-and-suck with that demon whore Ruby? I was practically your Demon Blood Anonymous sponsor, talking you down whenever you thought you needed a hit. And I was _still_ there when you started the goddamn Apocalypse, reminding you that it wasn’t your fault! And after what you did to me in Michigan… what, you didn’t think I’d believe you or forgive you? You thought it was better to cut me out of your fucking life?”

“Yeah, I did.”

“Why?!”

“Because of everything you just said. Because to you, I am merely a monster. And in the end that’s all I ever was. And all I ever will be. I’m toxic Emma. Every shit thing that happens to me hurts people I care about. They suffer because of me. Dean just had me possessed by a psycho angel for months and guess what? I killed people…people who were my friends, my family. And what I did to you…soul or no soul, I can’t forgive myself for that. I didn’t want to drag you down into my bullshit anymore. Because it never stops and it never will and I love you too much to ever hurt you again!”

I was stunned. He’d never told me he loved me before. We were hunters, we couldn’t afford to fall in love.

But damn if I wasn’t in love with him too.

I knelt down in front of him, taking hold of his wrists in my hands. His face was streaked with tears. He looked so tired, so done with everything, full of guilt and sadness and heartache. Sam had the weight of the world on his shoulders and he looked as though he’d gladly sell his soul all over again just to be able to put it down.

“Sam,” I started softly, “When the Djinn had me, do you know what I was dreaming about? What I dream about even when I don’t have Djinn venom running through me? I dream about you. You and me. And we’re happy and safe, with this life behind us, building a new one together. I’ve had that dream for years, Sam, ever since the first night we spent together. No matter what you were going through, no matter what you were doing or what you had become…even after what you did to me I still had that dream. So if you think for one goddamn second that I’ve ever stopped loving you, or could ever stop…that’s the only thing that would make you a monster.”

Sam looked down at me, his gaze penitent and sorrowful.

“Emma, I’m sorry,” he choked, his body shaking as he sobbed. “I’m so sorry…”

I rose and wrapped my arms around him, pulling his head to my chest. His tears soaked through my shirt as mine dripped onto his hair, his lips murmuring a constant string of apologies and ‘I love you’s.

I shushed and soothed him as we both wept, running my fingers through his hair.

“Sam, it’s okay, it’s all okay. Come on, lay down, I know you’re exhausted.”

“Stay with me?” he pleaded.

Despite his large frame he looked so small, crawling into himself under the heaviness of his shame.

“Of course I will. I’m not going anywhere.”

We released each other only for the few seconds it took it to lay ourselves in the bed. Facing one another, we held on tight, breathing as we both willed our tears to stop.

“How can you forgive me, Emma?” Sam sniffed. “You should be running, as far away as -”

“Shut up, you dumb moose,” I jeered. “We both just confessed our undying love for one another. I’m staying right here.” I placed a soft kiss on his forehead that seemed to send a wave of calm through him. I did it again, adding one to his cheek, the tip of his nose, his lips. He pulled me even closer then, returning each kiss, lingering when his lips met mine again.

I opened my mouth slightly, inviting him to continue. His tongue traced my lower lip before gently meeting mine in a lazy tangle. We simply kissed for what seemed like hours, enjoying the taste of each other and the comfort of being in one another’s arms again after so long. All the pain, physical and emotional, dissolved with every breath we shared, with every soft moan that vibrated between us. Our bodies began to pulse and move, hands starting to wander, each touch a spark kindling a flame that had been neglected for far too long.

I rolled on top of him, straddling his waist, dragging myself against his covered, hardening length. There was no need for words, no caution to be heeded…simply primordial knowledge that our hearts were only broken because the other held the missing piece. I pushed up his t-shirt, urging him to remove it, running my hands over the ripples of his abdomen, up and over the firm rounds of his chest. Sam reached for the buttons on my shirt, unfastening each one as I continued trace his every muscle, every scar, the pentagram of his tattoo with my fingertips. He pushed back my shirt, revealing my bare breasts, nipples hardening from the chill of the air between us and the heat of his touch as he brushed each one with his thumbs.

Feeling too far away from him, I covered his bare chest with mine, peppering kisses along his jawline and down his neck. His breath quickened when my lips floated downwards, my kisses hot and wet on every part of him I could cover. I only stopped when I arrived at the waistline of his pants, making quick work of unbuttoning them as he softly bucked his hips. He helped me tug them down and off, leaving him gloriously naked beneath me.

I knelt between his open legs, his eyes never leaving mine as I removed my own jeans. He started to rise up, arms ready to wrap around me and pull me close.

“No,” I uttered, placing both hands on his shoulders. “Lay back. Let me take care of you for once.”

Normally, Sam would have protested, wanting the give and take to be mutual. But he gave in, surrendering without complaint while I ran my hands over his knees and thick, strong thighs, my fingers crawling their way to his twitching cock. He drew in a sharp breath as I wrapped my hand around him, spreading his precum around his shaft before taking him in my mouth. He whimpered at the touch of my tongue as it swirled on the head of his cock. Then I took him in deep, as far as I could, slowly retreating once he hit the soft flesh of my throat. My own hand fell between my legs as I licked and sucked him delicately; first sliding one, then two, then three fingers into myself to open myself up for him. Sam let out a groan, lacing his fingers through my hair.

I knew if I kept going I’d send him over the edge. As much as I wanted it to be all about him,  _I_  needed him; I needed to feel our bodies fuse together, needed to make and feel him come while he was enveloped inside of me. I released him from my mouth, kissing his stomach as I inched my way up his body, rising to my knees and straddling him. I slid his cock though my soaked folds and guided him to my entrance, his eyes half-lidded, closing, then fluttering wide open in bright hazel rapture as I lowered myself onto him inch by inch.

“Emma…my god Emma,” he moaned as I rocked lazily back and forth, his hands loosely gripping my hips. I swayed and circled, steering our bodies until they fit into that perfect place, where he was impossibly deep in my heat, pressing against that spot inside of me that no one else could quite reach the way that he could. We found our rhythm, lazy thrusts meeting in tandem, sighs and moans mingling as we both approached the precipice.

The pad of Sam’s thumb found its way to my pulsing clit, stroking and circling gently but insistently as I rode him a little faster. I could tell he was holding back, his face twisting in protest, not ready to let go just yet.

“So beautiful…Need you to come, Emma…please, come for me,” he slurred, his voice weak from the exertion of self-denial.

My skin flushed red hot, a sheen of sweat breaking through my pores as my climax took hold, simmering through every cell until it erupted in bolts of bright white ecstasy, pushing Sam over right along with me.

I fell on top of him, his arms pressing me tight against him as he rode out the last of his orgasm. More tears formed in my eyes, but not from pain or sadness. They were for the bliss I felt, from mine and Sam’s repeated whispers of ‘I love you’s, from both of us finding our way home again. When I met his gaze as I lifted myself off of him, he smiled the most loving, happy smile I’d ever seen cross his face. I laid on my side as he gathered me close, placing soft kisses on the top of my head as I traced lazy, abstract patterns along his chest. Our breathing had slowed, our eyes and bodies heavy, drained from the outpouring of too many emotions all at once. I smiled when the rise and fall of Sam’s chest steadied, when the softest snore rumbled against my ear. I let myself fall into a contented sleep, knowing we were both exactly where we needed to be.

***

It was late afternoon when we woke. I ordered a pizza while Sam picked up a twelve pack from the market across the street.

I let Sam do most of the talking while we ate and drank. He told me about everything that had happened in the three years we hadn’t spoken; About getting his soul back, when the wall Death had put up crumbled and visions of Lucifer haunted him. He told me about The Men of Letters, their bunker he and his brother now called home. He told me about Castiel’s brief stint as God, Dean’s trip to purgatory, the prize fight in progress for the throne of Hell between Crowley and Abaddon, the Angel and Demon tablets and The Trials. When he talked about being possessed by Gadreel, how he killed their friend and prophet Kevin, he broke down again, letting out the agony and guilt he carried while I held him, assuring him he wasn’t to blame. I knew he couldn’t believe that yet, that he wouldn’t be able to let that go for a long time. In his pain and anger, he said he had disowned Dean - I knew that wouldn’t last, but kept that thought to myself.

The sun went on rising and setting during our time in that tiny motel room, as we locked ourselves away from the monsters and beasts that roamed through the dark for just a little while. Sam and I passed the time with conversation, bad daytime tv movies and too much take-out food.

And in between we made love, sometimes slowly and passionately, sometimes greedily and wildly, but never lacking in enamored magnetism, knowing we were made for one another, yet feeling as though we were discovering each other for the first time.

I burned every touch, every kiss and every sound into my memory, knowing deep down that this wasn’t going to last forever, that soon, memories were all I’d likely have to cling to.

***

It was early, the pallid light of dawn barely shining through the curtains. Sam was sitting at the table fully dressed, the blue glare of his laptop illuminating his face as gruff, mumbled voices flowed quietly from the speaker.

“You’re up early,” I yawned.

“Sorry, I didn’t wake you, did I?” Sam asked.

“No… well, maybe a little.” I got out of bed and stood behind him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders, and placing a kiss on the side of neck. I looked at the screen, seeing a familiar face listed as a John Doe. “Hey, I think I know that guy. Glen? Gus? Carries a sock puppet with him?”

“Garth. He was hit by a car in Wisconsin. Says here he’s in police custody at Grantsburg Memorial, being held for…trespassing and cattle mutilation?” Sam looked bewildered. “He’s been a huge help to me and Dean…I need to help him, I gotta check this out.”

He turned his head toward me.

“Come with me?”

Every fiber of my being, each molecule that wove together the fabric of my mind, body and soul wanted to say yes. I wanted a life with Sam more than I’d ever wanted anything.

But not this life. Not a life with perpetual bloodshed and conflict surrounding us, battling angels and demons on top of everything else that was out there. Not a life where I would constantly have to see him fighting and hurting.

I wanted our cozy, warm house in the country, the two of us wrapped up together in a wool blanket on our couch, in front of our fireplace. I wanted the impossible. I wanted my dream to come true.

It wasn’t my place to be by his side in the thick of things. I was his respite, his safe place to hide himself in when it all became too much. And until the day came when we could both turn our backs on this life, that was how it needed to remain.

Sunlight began to pour through gap in the curtains.  Staring at my feet, I willed myself not to falter as I gave him my answer.

“I can’t, Sam.”

He nodded with a sad but understanding smile. “I get it.”

“It’s just not -”

“I know, Emma. It’s not the right time.”

Sam stood up and wrapped his arms around me, cloaking me in his colossal frame of soft cotton and solid muscles, kissing the top of my head. I fought with everything I had to not burst into tears as I pressed into him, breathing in his scent and basking in the warmth of his embrace.

His voice rumbled soft and low against my ear. “Thank you. For everything. I don’t deserve you.”

“No you don’t, Winchester.” I smacked his ass playfully. “But no matter how far away you are, no matter what monster fuck-show you’re dealing with, you’re stuck with me. And don’t you ever forget that again.”

Sam chuckled. “I have a feeling you won’t let that happen.”

“Nope,” I smirked. “Now I know where you live. I love you, Sam.”

He bent down to kiss me, capturing my lips with his for only a moment - but it was a moment that seemed to last forever.

“I love you too, Emma. More than you’ll ever know.”

**_The End_ **

 

**Author's Note:**

> As always, special thanks to the best beta a woman could ask for - my husband!


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